


On the Edge of Paradise

by chalantness



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-03-28 19:30:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3867100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chalantness/pseuds/chalantness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She can tell right away that this is a vision, only this time, it actually feels more like she’s dreaming. She can also tell that this, whatever she’s in, isn’t one of her memories. It’s too bright, too warm. And she can’t even remember the last time she’s been to a church.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Edge of Paradise

**Author's Note:**

> An idea that popped into my head while wondering if Wanda could show happy visions to people, too. Sorry I’m shipper trash.

Steve's still sitting at Wanda's bedside when Natasha walks back into the room, and she finds herself smiling, shaking her head.

She's pretty sure he hasn't left the room since they moved Wanda in here. She'd tease him about being worried, but, well. They all were. They hadn't expected there to be a superhuman participating in the drug delivery they'd intercepted across the border, and while they still neutralized the situation without drawing any attention, Wanda had gotten knocked down and hit her head pretty hard. She blacked out for a few minutes and it was pretty fucking scary, alright? It's not as though they haven't been through worse, but it always, every time, is kind of a big deal when one of them gets hurt. They ran a few tests, though, and Wanda is pretty much fine. She's only on bedrest overnight as precaution.

"Hey," Natasha says softly, touching Steve's arm. He lets out a little grunt as he stirs, blinks his eyes open and then smiles when he sees that it's her. "You know, you old folk shouldn't be sleeping in metal chairs," she teases, and he chuckles sleepily, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Guess I dozed off," he says.

"Well, it's way passed your bedtime, so I'm not surprised." He lets out a laugh, slumping back in his chair. Natasha tilts her head. "She'll be fine, Steve."

He nods, glancing back at Wanda. She's woken up a few times already and they did all the checkups, so it's not like they're holding their breaths to see if there's any damage.

"I just don't want her to have to wake up by herself," Steve says in this soft voice, and Natasha's heart does that stupid fluttering thing. Since Day One with them, Wanda and Steve have been the closest, maybe second only to Wanda and Clint, whenever the guy decides he wants to show his face. Wanda's comfortable with everyone, of course, but there's just something special about her relationship with Steve, and Natasha loves seeing that. Wanda pretty much adores Steve, and the guy has a soft spot like a mile wide for her. It's cute.

"Let me tag in, then," Natasha tells him. He looks up at her again. "I already took my nap. Now it's your turn."

He presses his lips together, debating this. But he's tired and she knows it, and she can tell that _he_ knows it, too, so he exhales after a moment.

"Thanks, Natasha." He stands up and sets his hand over hers where it's still on his arm, squeezing her fingers gently. She smiles. "Just grab me if you need anything."

She rolls her eyes, still smiling. " _Go_ ," she commands, and he chuckles, fingers lingering around hers before he steps away. She looks over her shoulder and watches as he goes, and he stops in the doorway, giving her this little grin before finally walking outside.

She doesn't doubt that he'll probably just be in the next room or something, and that he'll only sleep for an hour or two before he makes his way back to check up on them. She laughs faintly at the thought – seriously, he's such a worrier – and then sinks into the chair. His leather jacket is still draped over the back of it and it fills the space with his scent and his warmth, and she takes a deep breath, feeling way too comforted by it than is probably normal, but whatever. There are a lot of things about her and Steve that isn't really _normal_.

(They should probably try to figure out what that means, but there's hardly ever any time, and she _likes_ this thing with Steve. She doesn't want to question it just yet.)

She shifts the chair a little closer to Wanda's bedside and gently leans her arms against the railing.

Wanda looks totally peaceful right now. Natasha would be, too, if she'd fallen asleep knowing that Steve was right by her side the whole time.

(Yeah, that's definitely supposed to mean something.)

Natasha reaches for Wanda's hand. She's not really sure why she has the urge to hold onto it, because it's not something she ever remembers doing before, or has ever crossed her mind. She'll sit at people's bedside, yes, but just wanting to hold their hand? That's definitely new.

The kid is making her soft.

She moves carefully, trying not to wake her, but her palm just barely grazes Wanda's when her vision tinges with red, and this sensation – this _familiar_ sensation – washes over her.

And then Natasha finds herself standing on the steps of a church.

She can tell right away that this is a vision. She remembers how fuzzy her senses had felt, how surreal everything had seemed, when Wanda had brought her back through her memories in the Red Room. That's what she's feeling now. Only this time, there isn't something squeezing over her heart, pulling at the deepest, darkest corners of her mind. It actually feels more like she's dreaming. She hasn't just _dreamt_ in a while, to be honest, but it's just one of those things that you recognize right away because it's so comforting.

She can also tell right away that this, whatever she's in, isn't one of her memories. It's too bright, too warm.

And she can't even remember the last time she's been to a church.

She hears clicking, and it draws her attention. She looks over her shoulder and through the open doors of the church to see Wanda hurries by, her heels tapping against the marble floors. Natasha only gets a quick glimpse, but she catches the curls in her hair and the red dress she has on and the bouquet she's carrying in one hand, and it's pretty easy to piece together that she's dressed as a bridesmaid. For a moment, Natasha thinks that maybe this is one of Wanda's memories, but she doesn't look any younger. And she can't imagine that there'd been time in Wanda's past as an experiment to attend a _wedding_. Natasha frowns, climbing the last few steps and following Wanda down the corridor and into a garden.

And she stops in her stride when she sees Steve standing there in a black suit and a red tie and flowers pinned to his blazer. He has his hands casually tucked in his pockets as he shares a laugh with Sam, who's also dressed up. They both sort of have their backs turned to her and Wanda, but Natasha recognizes them easily.

"There you are," Wanda says, making Sam and Steve turn to look at her. "I was beginning to think you two had escaped."

Sam laughs and claps a hand to Steve's shoulder. "Do you really think this guy would make such a big deal over proposing and then get cold feet on the wedding day?"

Steve chuckles and shakes his head. Natasha steps closer, wanting to get a better look.

He cleans up really well. She's always known he this, has seen him dressed up more than a few times already. But it still gets her.

"You look beautiful, Wanda," Steve says.

"And you both look very handsome," Wanda replies, stretching on her toes to press a kiss to their cheeks. "You should really see your bride, Steve," Wanda tells him, and Natasha's breath catches a little when Steve looks up and has that _smile_ on his face as he meets her eyes. She knows that he's just looking right through her, but she can't really help it.

"She always looks beautiful," Steve says, and Natasha has to look away, because _shit_. She can't let her thoughts go to places like this. "How's she doing?"

"She's perfectly calm, and a little impatient," Wanda answers, sounding amused. "Clearly you two have never heard of pre-wedding nerves."

"No need for them," Steve replies with a shrug. "Our whole lives have been about bad timing and missed chances. We weren't going to let this slip out of our hands, too."

Wanda steps forward, grasping his elbow with both hands. "Then you should probably get inside that church before she leaves for your honeymoon without you."

Steve laughs, like he knows she's teasing, and presses a kiss to her hair before jogging forward. Natasha can't help but watch him as he passes her, her gaze following him as he slows to stop in the middle of the hallway and pulls open one of the double doors, disappearing inside. He seems happy, eager to get married, to start the rest of his life with this woman he's fallen for, and she's glad. He's such a good man and he deserves the best. He deserves to have that picture perfect future he thought he'd missed his chance at.

A nearby door opens, grabbing Natasha's attention, and Tony and Bucky are arguing about something as they step into the hallway.

"Holy shit," Natasha breathes. Bucky looks different than when she'd last seen him in Washington DC – not exactly like all the old pictures on his files, but a little closer. He looks healthier, _happier_ , even as he's arguing with Tony (about something insignificant, no doubt).

"Okay, okay, enough," Sam interrupts with a laugh, stepping in between them. "We're about to walk into church."

"Is this thing finally starting? Because it's about damn time— _sorry_ , sorry," Tony amends when Wanda shoots him a look. Natasha rolls her eyes, but she's smiling, too.

She follows the four of them towards the double doors that Steve just disappeared inside of, and, across the hallway, another door swings open. Maria and Helen step outside, wearing dresses that match Wanda's and carrying their own bouquets, and Clint walks out a few steps behind them, hands messing with his collar.

"You look fine," he grumbles, turning to look back inside the room. "Get out here."

"I'm the bride, it's not like they can just start without me," someone says, and Natasha freezes.

That's _her_ voice.

She doesn't realize that she's holding her breath until she's watching herself walk out of the room and exhaling sharply in surprise.

She's wearing a wedding dress – with the beaded bodice and the huge skirt and the sweeping train and all the works – and her hair is curled atop her head, a veil pouring out from them and falling down the back of her dress. This woman has a gentle smile on her face, her eyes sparkling, her cheeks flushed. Natasha can't remember the last time she felt _that_ happy, if she's _ever_ felt that happy before, but there's no denying that this is supposed to be her. It's strange. She's not sure if she's ever imagined herself getting married before.

_Shit._

Clint glances at his watch, holds his finger up for a moment, and then smirks when the organ starts playing inside the church. "Right on cue," he announces.

The vision of herself rolls her eyes as she tucks her hand at the crook of his elbow. "It's not _them_ I'm worried will screw something up."

"Hey, all I have to do is say, 'Steve, here you go,' and I'm done. How could I screw that up?"

"Maybe by wording it as, ' _Steve, here you go_ ,'" Maria answers, shooting him a look. "It's supposed to sound a little more sentimental than that. You _are_ giving her away."

Helen laughs, and Bucky opens his mouth to say something.

But then Natasha jerks awake suddenly, sitting up. It takes a moment for her vision to come back into focus, but she finds herself staring back at Wanda, smiling at her from where she's lying in her hospital bed. "Welcome back," she greets softly, and Natasha lets out a breathy laugh.

"That was you." It's a statement, not a question.

"My subconscious," Wanda corrects.

"Your subconscious dreams about that kind of stuff?" Natasha asks, quirking an eyebrow.

"I haven't been able to dream for a few years now, actually," Wanda explains. There's a bit of nonchalance in the way she says this, like she's already come to terms with it – just another side effect of having the kind of power that she does. "Sometimes, though, my subconscious—it feeds off of the energy of the people around me. Sometimes I see the visions I've caused someone to experience in the past and sometimes I sync up with their thoughts. It has been more enjoyable lately, since this environment is so pleasant."

"You're not such bad company yourself, kid," Natasha says, reaching over to brush the girl's hair from her face. Wanda smiles a little wider.

"That vision that you saw," Wanda starts.

Natasha shakes her head. "It's alright," she says dismissively. "I don't really need the therapy session."

Wanda laughs softly. "That did not come from your thoughts," she tells her, and Natasha turns to meet her gaze. Wanda raises her eyebrows slightly and Natasha sits up a little, the words sinking in. Natasha's already sort of piecing it together, but it still manages to surprise her when Wanda adds, "That vision came from Steve."

She… doesn't know what to say.

Wanda shifts, sitting herself up and then leaning forward, taking hold of Natasha's hand.

Natasha looks into her eyes. "He thinks about a future with you often," she says, and Natasha lets out a breath. "Did you know that?"

She shakes her head. "We don't – we've never had a conversation about _us_ in any context. We've never needed one."

"Or perhaps you _have_ needed one, and that's why it hasn't happened yet." Despite everything, Natasha _laughs_. "When that vision first appeared, I'd asked Steve how long he'd felt that way," she tells Natasha. "Can you guess what he said?" Natasha shakes her head once and Wanda squeezes their joined hands. "He told me he wasn't sure when it happened, exactly. He'd said that it sort of just snuck up on him. One day, he looked at you and he remembered when you two stood together before certain death, and all he saw was you."

Natasha lets out a shaky breath.

(She remembers, too, standing with him as the city crumbled into pieces – remembers how she'd felt strangely at peace. Something about him has always felt peaceful.)

"I…" She shakes her head, shrugging her shoulders a little. "I wouldn't know where to start," she admits.

"Maybe try with a cup of coffee?" Wanda suggests, and, despite everything, Natasha _laughs_. She can't help it. Everything feels a little ridiculous right now.

She has no idea what she's supposed to say, mostly because she has no idea what to focus on, but luckily, she can hear footsteps and voices coming down the hallway – Steve and Helen heading for the room. Wanda gives her a small smile that Natasha knows is meant to be encouraging and Natasha squeezes the girl's hand one last time before slipping from her grasp. The door opens and then Helen is walking inside, greeting them with a warm smile. "Glad to see you up," she tells Wanda, coming around the girl's bed with her clipboard.

Steve gives Wanda a smile, too, but he stays lingering in the doorway, and Natasha stands. "She's all yours," she tells Helen, grabbing Steve's jacket off of the back of the chair and slipping her arms through the sleeves. He brushes his hand across the small of her back as she walks passed and then shuts the door behind them.

"You alright?" he asks, glancing at her in his peripheral as they head down the hallway.

She feels herself smiling. "Yeah," she answers, staring forward. There's a vending machine at the corner of the hallway, and, as they walk closer, she can see their reflections in the glass. "Want some gum?" she asks, tapping the machine, and Steve chuckles as he shakes his head.

"I'm good," he says. There's a tone of amusement in his voice and she knows that they're picturing the same memory.

"Okay." She turns to face him and he comes to a stop. "What about coffee?" she asks, and he tilts his head. "I'm not tired, and it seems like we have a lot to talk about."

"We do?" he asks, and somehow, she knows that he can tell what she really means. He's always been able to tell. She nods a little, holding his gaze, and the corners of his lips turn upward as he gives her that dimpled smile of his. "Coffee sounds great."

(He reaches for her hand later, when they're sitting at the diner, and she lets him hold onto it the whole time.)


End file.
